Thirst.

She had a thirst in her eyes. 

A lust for success, 

like the aim of a lion and the focus of a 

marksman. 

She was bold and authoritative. 

A talker, imaginative, 

and outspoken of her 

feelings, 

well she was, 

most of the time: except when they talked about him. 

Her friends used to tease her, like all the friends do in the world.

Only if they knew what tornado rises inside of her on the name of his.

Like an avalanche successive of devastation, 

a meteor racing towards the earth:

an unequivocal apocalypse. 

Or like dark magic ruining the ruins,

a spirited ritual longing for peace;

only if they knew. 

For these were empty girls unable to understand 

the severity of her emotion. 

-Fa